


points of articulation

by goinghost



Series: autoclave - shapeshifter au [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Episode: s03e01-02 Juno Steel and the Man in Glass, Identity Issues, Other, it's just peter tho, peter nureyev epic bitch moments compilation (ten hours), yep just peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26464174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goinghost/pseuds/goinghost
Summary: Nureyev knew that one simple slip up could result in a manhunt for the man who would be standing in Peter Nureyev’s place for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t exactly viable for him to end his relationship with Buddy Aurinko by escaping in the night in order to start a new alias, but he would do it if he must.(It would, perhaps, be a shame to leave under such secretive and unfortunate circumstances...for reasons.)--The mask of Peter Ransom comes off inch by inch
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: autoclave - shapeshifter au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923808
Comments: 6
Kudos: 76





	points of articulation

**Author's Note:**

> back at it again with shapeshifter nureyev au! shoutout to my roommate for giving me the working title of this fic, which was "2 shape 2 shifter" and shout out to the trans peter nureyev discord for giving me the song with a lyric that i named the actual fic after ('toy boy' by MIKA) 
> 
> i might write more of s3 shapeshifter au and add chapters onto this fic but for now it'll stay man in glass (i do have an idea for shadows of the ship, we'll see if i end up writing it. and who knows what i'll think of the newest junoverse ep whenever it comes out) 
> 
> title from 'toy boy' by MIKA like i said! 
> 
> no cws that i can think of for this one, but like always if you catch something i should warn for please tell me in the comments!

When Juno met Peter Ransom, he almost didn't recognize him.

It’s the way he said his name that did it. That lilting _Juno_ that sounded almost musical like so many of the things Nureyev said. The pitch of the voice was all wrong, too low to be what he knew Nureyev’s real voice sounded like, but the cadence was the same. It almost didn’t match the rest of his voice. It was as if Nureyev couldn’t help but say his name like that no matter what mask he was wearing. 

But Juno didn’t need to pretend he had the privilege of being special to Peter Nureyev anymore. 

He didn’t know what to call whoever this new disguise was, but he’d already called Juno by name so they were definitely supposed to know each other. When Juno stopped coughing up his lungs he gave an awkward, “Hey...you.” 

Buddy—Juno’s new captain—looked between the two with an expression that was at once both slightly confused and almost _too_ understanding. Juno didn’t like it. His—former—job was an information game and he barely had any information right now. He didn’t even know Nureyev’s _name_. 

“I was under the impression that you and Ransom knew each other, darling.” Well that solved that problem, “It’s part of the reason I hired him. Might that not be the case?” 

Juno almost scrambled over himself to reply like he knew what was going on. _Why she hired him? He used me as a reference?_ “It’s definitely the case.”

Rita whispered (which, for Rita, meant she said it at a normal volume), “Mistah Steel, I ain’t ever seen that guy before. Do you really know him?” 

Nureyev— _Ransom_ right now—raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to say something wrong. Juno had gotten pretty good at reading his expressions underneath his expressions when they were trapped in that tomb, and right now his said, _Don’t fuck this up for me, Juno Steel. You owe me._ Or maybe that was just Juno’s guilt talking. 

“Yeah, I, uh, ran into him on a job once.”

Rita tilted her head, confused. “But I don’t remember—”

“Then I must not’ve told you. Look, it doesn’t matter. Point is, I know Ransom, Ransom knows me, and he’ll be, uh, a valuable asset to the crew. Or whatever.” Juno tried for an uncomfortable smile.

Buddy opened her mouth, but Nureyev talked before she could speak, “Exactly as Juno said, Captain Aurinko. I wouldn’t lie to you about something so important.” He seemed to realize what he’d said and Juno watched as a thousand fake names and faces flashed through his mind. “Well, important to the mission, I should say.” 

Buddy’s face still held that strange understanding, as if she saw all the pieces of a chess game she hadn’t even known she was playing fall into place and just discovered that she’d gotten them both in check. Juno could not emphasize enough how much he _didn’t like it._ Buddy Aurinko wasn’t someone you underestimated unless you wanted to end up missing your pants and hanging off the balcony of some crappy hotel room. You know, hypothetically. 

She nodded at the both of them and said, “Very well. Since you’ve been thoroughly acquainted before, Ransom, would you be a dear and show Juno to his quarters, maybe give him a little tour of the ship? Jet will take Rita.” 

“Of course, captain,” Nureyev said, but Juno noticed the slight grit of his teeth. Okay, yeah that made sense. Of course he didn’t want to spend more time with Juno. But this was the best opportunity Juno was going to get to...apologize? Explain? Beg forgiveness? He wasn’t really sure what he was going to say once they were alone, but, hey, it’s not like he could dig himself any deeper into this hole. 

As Nureyev led him aboard the ship—Carte Blanche, the hull read—Juno was beginning to think the hole he was in had a false bottom. He wasn’t sure whether he should dive right into the apologies, so he started with small talk. Nureyev was less than receptive. 

“So,” Juno said, completely awkwardly, “How, uh—how have you been?”

“Fine,” Nureyev said, completely neutrally, “How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

They moved from what appeared to be a garage and cargo hold up onto the main deck of the ship. Juno tapped his fingers against his thighs as they walked. He noticed that Nureyev’s own hands were slightly clenched as if he were resisting the urge to do the same. He didn’t want Juno to see him fidgeting, he guessed. 

That wasn’t the only thing he noticed about Nureyev’s physicality. Ransom had much worse posture than him. His legs were longer and his face almost resembled the severe angles of Rex Glass, except these were more squared off. His makeup was also much more subtle than Juno was used to seeing Nureyev wear. It was strange. Ransom was all-around more...average than anyone Juno had seen Nureyev wear, including his own face. Even his clothes were more muted, just a white shirt with ties that laced up in the front and a pair of brown pants. There was jewelry, but not in any of the bright colors he’d come to expect from Nureyev, just gold bracelets and one small gold hoop earring. Juno didn’t know what to make of it. 

The air was stiff with silence, the only noise was the rhythmic thunk of their footsteps on the metal ground and the creaking of an old ship around them. Juno felt like he was going to lose it. Fine, no build up. He would say what he needed to say and get out of Nureyev’s hair. He just couldn’t stand the pervasive awkwardness. 

He opened his mouth, “Look, Nureyev—”

The other man hissed, “That is not my name.” 

“Fine, Ransom then,” Juno tried to resist the urge to roll his eye just a little, “Look, Ransom, obviously there are some things we need to talk about. What happened two years ago—”

Nureyev interrupted him again, “I don’t see what there is to discuss.” 

“What?” Juno blinked at him. _Seriously?_

“Obviously regrettable choices were made.” Nureyev sniffed. This sounded right at home in Ransom’s voice, which was slightly more nasally than Nureyev’s own. “I see no reason to dwell on them.”

Juno continued blinking widely at him, confused. He hadn’t expected his attempts at apology to be rejected so handily. “Regrettable—-Ransom, we—”

“Yes, Juno,” Nureyev had been avoiding his eye up until then but now he seemed to be staring at him like he could see inside of Juno and was trying his best to reject whatever he’d found. “ _Regrettable._ Now, it appears that we’ve arrived at your quarters. The nearest bathroom is down the hall, and the communal spaces are further after that. I’ll leave you to it.” 

“Wait, Ransom—” But Nureyev had already turned away and was marching determinedly towards another row of doors that Juno assumed led to his room. “Nice going, Steel,” he muttered to himself. “Way to pounce on the guy.” But a part of him, one that was growing every day, told himself that that hadn’t been entirely his fault. It was obvious that trying to talk it out with Nureyev was going to take more finesse. 

Problem was, Juno had never been very good at detail work. 

* * *

When Captain Aurinko had detailed the heist they were to go on that night at the first “family meeting”, Peter could admit that he’d been trepidatious. 

It was strange, being on a crew. It had only been a few days since Peter had made his temporary home aboard the Carte Blanche yet he was already feeling himself regret the decision. The addition of one Juno Steel certainly didn’t help matters. 

After the meeting had concluded and he’d gone to his room to prepare for their heist, Nureyev realized that this wouldn’t be the usual fare. Here, he would have no need to construct a unique face to fit the alias he’d chosen. As far as the Aurinkos (minus one stubborn lady) were concerned, Peter Ransom’s face was the only face he was capable of wearing. He’d debated when sending in his application whether to let slip the details of his abilities in order to better secure him the position without having to namedrop Juno Steel, however he’d come to the conclusion that having an entirely new group who were aware of what Peter Nureyev could do (even if they did not know that name) was too risky. 

So he’d kept what he was capable of private and resigned himself to taking small, private breaks from Peter Ransom’s form in the late night hours in his room every night in order to stay practiced and alert. The problem of slipping only became difficult if he were both very tired and not in his right mind (as he had been when Miasma had been torturing him for Juno’s sake). There shouldn’t be an issue as long as he stayed on top of his appearance. 

What he hadn’t anticipated was the fact that not only would he be staying in a singular alias for however long their ultimate mission took them, but he would be unable to alter his appearance for the sake of the jobs that the Aurinko crime family would run along the way. 

It left a strange taste in Peter’s mouth, bitter and sharp. There were flutterings of anxiety that spread through his chest that he quickly filed away. He could address the unusual nervousness after he’d successfully pulled off this heist, even with his least favorite petulant former-detective in tow. Perhaps that was what was making his anticipation take a more sour note than usual. He was unable to use his most valuable asset as a thief and a con artist _and_ he was forced to do it all with what amounted to a large child dragging him down. 

Well, Juno Steel would not prevent Nureyev from completing this mission and hopefully impressing Buddy Aurinko and company with the skills he knew he had. Peter Nureyev could do much more than shift into another pretty face, and while he hadn’t had much practice in pretending to be a new persona without an accompanying look, he would simply have to stay exceptionally concentrated. Peter Ransom would completely embody Monsieur Dauphin.

“Madame Dauphin” was making that difficult, however. 

Juno insisted on attempting to have a _heart-to-heart_ in the line to access the party they were meant to be infiltrating. He was attempting to speak of things that Peter had no time nor need to consider any longer. The past was the past. First rule of thieving: we do not dwell on things that no longer matter. When Juno Steel had left Peter Nureyev in that hotel room, he had made his choice, and Nureyev had made his. There was no need to act like they had to discuss those choices as if they hadn’t been set in stone by the very passing of time. 

Besides, there was nothing that Peter wanted to say to him. They had moved past all the words he could think would be relevant. 

The plan continued, despite a mishap at the door. Nureyev attempted professionalism and poise only to be thwarted by Juno at every turn. Not only that, but the undercurrent of anxiety that caused Ransom’s chest to tighten and Ransom’s hands to falter gave Nureyev pause. He was unused to working in these conditions, yes, but there was no reason the thought of solidifying his appearance for two different aliases should be causing him so much grief. 

He continued trying to file the feelings away, but every glance a passing socialite or executive threw his way made his throat tighten until he was genuinely worried that he’d somehow shifted away the muscles that allowed him to breathe. _You’re being ridiculous,_ he told himself, _your body language is completely different. Peter Ransom’s name isn’t anywhere near the identification given to the guards at the door. You’re wearing at least three layers of expensive makeup._

But no matter what reassurances he gave himself, or how hard he tried to shove the unpleasant feeling into the far recesses of his mind, his heart still stuttered. Maybe if he shifted slightly, not enough to be noticeable but enough to fool whatever facial recognition technology the gala housed that Buddy’s information hadn’t thought to include. A different line of his chin or depth to his cheekbones should do it. 

He was about to find somewhere away from the direct line of sight of the many cameras when he spotted Juno…. _flirting._ His appearance modifications would have to wait, then. Though catching Juno’s attention was less than enlightening on why the lady thought that now would be a good time to _mess around_ with someone. 

Suddenly the auction was starting and Juno was messing things up once again. Nureyev felt that prickle of anxiety underneath his skin as all eyes watched them bid away every cent of the fake creds they’d been designated with at the start of the mission, unable to hide his face anyway that wasn’t the superficial makeup he’d put on hours before in preparation. 

He tried to channel that energy towards being furious with Juno, an emotion that had come very easily to him in the past 24 hours and beyond. The attention on them had obviously been his fault, as had the fact that they were forced to improvise in the first place. And, of course, due to Juno’s mistakes, Nureyev would be forced to be in line-of-sight with every camera from here to the Globe. 

No matter. It was fine. He was adequately disguised as Peter Ransom as Monsieur Dauphin, and not only that, but Ransom’s appearance wasn’t very similar to his own. Crafting it had been something of a chore when trying to figure out what features to include or borrow from previous disguises. The Peter Ransom of his youth had been a bandaid, a temporary solution back when his abilities weren’t reliable enough for him to go long stretches of time or do a high stakes mission in a new face. His face was fit for someone much younger and much closer to Nureyev’s own appearance than he would have liked to replicate. When he’d decided to reuse this alias in this way as a reminder to himself, he’d also decided to stay true to the vow he’d made many nights ago in an empty hotel room. After all, it was partly the introduction of Peter Nureyev that had resulted in the...unpleasantness that had plagued his affair with Juno Steel. 

So Ransom was an effort to move as far away from the blueprint of Peter Nureyev as he was comfortable with. And he was comfortable with quite a bit of distance. Yet the fact that his original face could not be deciphered did little to quell the nerves he felt, taking out each camera one by one. 

Nureyev knew that one simple slip up could result in a manhunt for the man who would be standing in Peter Nureyev’s place for the foreseeable future. It wasn’t exactly viable for him to end his relationship with Buddy Aurinko by escaping in the night in order to start a new alias, but he would do it if he must. 

(It would, perhaps, be a shame to leave under such secretive and unfortunate circumstances...for reasons.)

He came to the last remaining camera, right in front of the Globe that he was about to spirit away. Nureyev knew he could dispatch this camera as easily as all the others, but it’s proximity to the Globe made him pause. Someone would be surveying it no doubt, unlike some of the other cameras he’d taken out. If he so much as twitched the wrong way his face would be plastered on every monitor they had. No, not his face, _Ransom’s_ face, he tried to remind himself. Yet it didn’t help the rising panic locking his limbs inches away from taking care of the business he’d set out to do. 

He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t notice Juno’s shouting at him until he’d practically been tackled. “Juno!” He hissed, “You—!”

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. We need to move _now._ ”

“And why should I—?”

Juno gestured in what he thought was probably a subtle way, but to Nureyev it was as clear as a lightning strike, “Because there’s a camera right in front of you!” 

“I was...aware,” Nureyev shrugged out of Juno’s grasp. 

“Why—?” Juno stared at him, “Why the hell were you just standing there then?”

He resisted the urge to shrug again, knowing how childish it would appear. Instead he said, “I was formulating a plan for removing it and taking the Globe, before I was _interrupted_.” 

Now Juno looked sheepish, “Sorry, Dauphin, it, uh, it really looked like you were about to get us both caught.” 

“I am a professional,” Nureyev sniffed, although he knew that he had no real leg to stand on considering he hadn’t known why he was just standing there in the first place. But Juno didn’t need to know that. “Unlike some people.”

Juno flashed him a halfway angry look and said, “Okay, look, I told you before she was never going to—” 

“Regardless,” he interrupted, “I had not been expecting you to be so...aware.” It was strange. As much as he hated to admit it, Nureyev probably had been about to get them caught with the way he’d just been standing there, so obviously poised to smash or steal something. Juno had managed to snap him out of whatever reverie he’d been stuck in before any truly lasting damage to their con could occur. Perhaps Peter had underestimated him. 

Obviously Peter Ransom’s reliability was being called into question, but he knew how Peter Nureyev wanted to fix it. He wanted to trust Juno, as badly as that endeavor had gone before. A part of him longed to work in tandem with the former detective once again even after all the evidence to the contrary. This is why he’d taken on the alias of Peter Ransom, he tried to remind himself. But that thought seemed so much less salient than the very real fact that Juno Steel had managed to keep his lapse from becoming catastrophic and maybe he hadn’t been giving the lady enough credit. 

Juno, for his part, seemed unaware of the thoughts swirling in Peter’s head. He was glancing around the ballroom as if they were about to be ambushed at any moment, “Yeah, it’s part of the whole detective shtick.” He began leading Nureyev away from the camera he’d frozen in front of and towards one of the ones he’d managed to take out. “Listen, do we have a plan?”

Peter cleared his throat, but that didn’t help him think of a response, “Hm?”

“Our intel—it’s Zolotovna. She redid the whole security setup this morning. Whatever we’ve got isn’t accurate anymore.”

“But that’s—”

“Pretty much the opposite of secure? Yeah.” Juno ran a hand over his face. Peter watched as he explained what he’d learned about Zolotovna with his “whole detective shtick.” It became clear to Peter that he actually had been underestimating Juno. And, as Ms. Zolotovna called for a dance, a way to rectify that became clear as well. 

For once, Nureyev was the center of attention when he did not want to be, but as always he could find a way to use that to his advantage. He separated from Juno with a clear plan of attack in mind, trying to force himself through the ridiculous anxiety of calling attention to his face in order to woo Zolotovna. 

Regardless of the way he was slightly too stiff-limbed when speaking with her, it worked. He and Juno rushed out of the gala as quickly as they could while Peter did his best to keep Ransom’s mask on straight. It wouldn’t do any good now if any of the many armed guards chasing after them as they burst through the exit saw his appearance shift.

Peter and Juno practically lept into the Ruby 7 and Peter watched as the shining building disappeared behind them. 

* * *

Once safely aboard the Carte Blanche, Peter almost said...something to Juno. He wasn’t sure what it was going to be, but he quickly stopped himself for fear that he’d reveal something he wasn’t ready to yet. A silly thought, considering Juno already knew both his name and his face, so what else would there be for him to learn? 

(Nureyev made sure to file away any part of himself that answered that question.)

Instead of attempting a conversation, he sat through the family meeting and let himself be dressed down by Captain Aurinko and Vespa and Jet alike. The only consolation was that Juno was being dressed down as well, although it was only satisfying to a part of him that had grown so much smaller than he’d expected it to when agreeing to join a crew with Juno Steel. It was the part of him that prevented Nureyev from going to Juno’s quarters himself once the meeting had concluded. 

He awaited a knock that he was sure was coming. He took the time to practice his shifts, a Duke Rose here, a Christopher Morales there. Perseus Shah had been tricky only in the sense that it was always a bit strange trying to get unnatural hair colors the right tone without seeming garish, so he brought him out for a few minutes. It was good practice. It made Peter feel safer and helped calm his earlier anxiety down. He could still change how he appeared to the world at a moment’s notice, all that he needed was to notice the moment where it would become necessary.

When the knock he’d been expecting finally did come, Peter almost opened the door as someone new entirely. Luckily, he had the good sense to shift back into Ransom’s face because he wasn’t sure if there were a camera situation in the hallway. 

Buddy Aurinko stood at his door. He would admit he hadn’t been expecting that. 

“Oh...Captain. Hello.” 

Her eyes shined oddly. Nureyev wasn’t sure what to make of that. “Hello, Ransom.”

They had an interesting conversation. It was the kind of conversation that Nureyev felt the need to sit down from immediately after. He’d barely even made it to the bed before there was another knock, this time from the lady he’d only just decided that he actually wanted to see. 

Juno Steel entered Peter Nureyev’s quarters as if he’d never left. No, that wasn’t quite right. He entered as if he had left and had spent a lot of time regretting and thinking about that decision, as if he couldn’t imagine it going any other way but oh did he wish that there had been some magic word that could’ve gotten him to stay. Nureyev was familiar with the feeling. 

Listening to Juno’s apology, it became clear that the feelings Peter had filed away had not disappeared. He heard what Juno said in a stupor, up until Juno mentioned, “And—and after you showed me what you really looked like too, when we were like that, it just—”

He went on, but Nureyev could not stop fixating on those words. It was obvious that Juno had seen how vulnerable Peter had been with his trust and regretted the way he’d rejected it. The part of Nureyev that had been squashed to almost nothing whispered in his mind of Juno’s rejection of his secrets ending catastrophically next time he got in some mood (as if “some mood” had been the only way to explain away Juno’s behavior in the first place), but Nureyev took that voice and crushed it between his wrung out hands. This new Juno—a Juno who apologized, who understood his actions and attempted to directly rectify their hurt—could be trusted perhaps even more so to protect the parts of Peter Nureyev that remained hidden out of necessity. 

And, maybe, with this new Juno there was even less of a necessity. 

When it became time for Nureyev to speak, he was unsure of what to say. Luckily, Nureyev did not need to say words in order to get his point across. He simply took Juno’s nervous, fidgeting hands in his and held them to his face as he breathed out as Peter Ransom and in as Peter Nureyev. 

Juno’s eye was wide, although Peter didn’t know if that were due to the sensation of the shift (which Juno had felt once before, if he recalled), or the fact that he was trying to accept Juno’s apology as best as he could at the moment. 

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, but was arguably just a few seconds. Juno’s hands remained on his bare—in every sense of the word—face. His rough palms cupped Nureyev’s cheeks and he brought his thumbs to move across the slight bags under his eyes. Uncharacteristically, Nureyev felt them wet slightly, as if he were about to cry. Strange. Juno’s eye looked equally wet, although neither of them let the tears fall. 

Eventually they would need to talk about what they were going to do now. Rushing into things without a proper conversation had been part of what got them into this mess of emotion in the first place. For now, however, they simply existed together: Juno Steel and an unmasked Peter Nureyev. 

The faceless thief given his face once again. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! as always you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/GHOSTZVNE) where i talk about all things penumbra! feel free to scream at me about this au as well because i am always thinking about it. 
> 
> comments and kudos make me eternally grateful so feel free to drop some if you enjoyed the fic!


End file.
